Irreverent
by Jessa L'Rynn
Summary: Mickey takes a highly irreverent look at an alien culture's god. Trouble ensues - lots of it. Response to blvdgrl's request for July Challenge II, and companion to her piece "Deity". Now Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**As I am a professional writer and have work to do to get paid, I have decided to deal with these thudding plot bunnies in the traditional manner - I will inflict them on others. Please see my Profile for the Challenges of the Month. July Challenges are now available, and what a twist for one of them. If you'd rather do June's, instead, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks to all those who have participated thus far - we had an exceptional turn out for June II for example. The new challenges will run through the end of July. Please let me know when you respond to a Challenge so I can read and review.**

This story is in response to blvdgrl's request for July Challenge II. I was asked to write a sequel or companion to her story, "Deity", include Ten, Rose, and Mickey, and set the story between "Girl in the Fireplace" and "Age of Steel". I have managed this. I was also asked to name the planet, give some cultural background, and disguise Rose for her own safety at some point.

"Deity" is a beautiful story, with a little humor and a lot of powerful prose. Make sure to check it out if you haven't already - it's on my favorites.

I, on the other hand, am insane. My response is from Mickey's point of view and, therefore, is all humor. It takes place ages into the future of the planet. I still cannot explain the special guest star - no idea HOW he got in this story, but he insisted and so here he is. There will be chapters on this one, because it got a bit long. They'll go up over the next two days. The rating should be considered to be a T+. Thanks!

* * *

**Irreverent**

Chapter 1:

"So, what are you hanging around here for, Mister Mousy?"

Mickey Smith looked up and glowered at the bloke dangling from the opposite wall in much the same way he was from this one. He was wearing leather-looking trousers and some fancy red jacket that he'd left open to show his bare chest. He had cursed the guards in a multitude of untranslated phrased when they dragged Mickey in to shackle him into this dank cell. Mickey could admit to being impressed, but he wouldn't. "Could ask you the same thing. Your band get a new drummer and chuck you?"

"Hah, hah," said the blond bloke, rolling his eyes. "Still as witty as ever, I see. What are you doing out of your hole?"

"Dunno what you're on about," replied Mickey. "And I've never seen you before."

"Oh, I realize that now," came the sarcastic reply. It was followed by a cheeky grin, reminiscent of that Jack flash bloke who used to travel with Rose and the Doctor. Wonder what happened to him?

Grimly, Mickey decided that it was probably the same thing that was happening now. Captain Oblivious had been chained to some wall somewhere, waiting for them to spring him, and they'd gotten so caught up in each other, as per usual, that they'd completely forgotten the poor bastard existed.

"So why'd they nick you, then?" Mickey asked.

"I was taking a leak."

Mickey blinked in surprise. "Didn't know that was a crime here."

"Tell me about it. You sign one of these damned icons of theirs and the next thing you know, they're hauling you in for treason. They're just lucky I was finished improving the art work."

Mickey laughed. "Mickey Smith," he introduced.

"John," the bloke replied. "What the hell, Captain John Smith. Think anyone'll believe we're brothers?"

"With what these people believe?" Mickey asked. He glanced at the decidedly white, obviously older bloke. "Hell, we could probably convince them we're identical freaking twins."

John laughed. "We need a plan. What'd they get you for?"

"Oh, god!" said Mickey, with a grim chuckle. "Where to start!?"

* * *

If they were shagging on the console, Mickey decided, he was going to demand they take a break at Jackie's. While there, he would "accidentally" suss them and then sit back to watch the fireworks.

He bet himself ten quid that they were.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. The mess on the spaceship with the French concubine should have put a stop to their cozy little space opera and given Mickey his last chance to steal his girl back from the alien git who stole her in the first place.

Instead, it had taken them maybe four hours to make up. Maybe four, if you counted the three quarters of an hour it had taken the Doctor to give up and come for Rose, if you counted the hour after Mickey spied them leaving the kitchen hand in hand. During that hour, he had gone into the room Rose had helped him pick out earlier, sat around, waited for her to come, waited for her to tell him how badly she was hurt, waited for her to want him or need him like she always used to do.

When it didn't happen, he went to look in on her. He wished he'd never opened the door. He found them sprawled together on the bed in a tangle of Rose's creamy arms and the Doctor's long, lanky limbs. It was a good thing they were still fully clothed, or he would have gotten entirely too much of an eyeful of alien bits, because the Doctor apparently slept, sprawled flat on his back and snoring up that oncoming storm Rose had called him earlier.

Mickey actually didn't know how she slept through the din.

Bravely, he went to open the console room door. He considered this very brave, because the Doctor had just made that loud, whooping noise he always made when something was particularly wonderful. Rose had let out a breathy, strange giggle. The giggle was punctuated with a deep masculine groan.

Make it twenty quid, he told himself, and opened the door.

Rose was just picking herself up off the floor. The Doctor was already dancing around the console, complaining good-naturedly about being on the planet Byristra, when he couldn't remember what was so interesting, if anything, about Byristra.

They greeted him enthusiastically and offered to let him go first. The Doctor promised there was no one shooting at anyone outside the door.

Rose shot them both a teasing grin. The Doctor tugged on his ear. "It's a very important thing to find out," he said. "You never know when you could land in the middle of a gang shoot-out, take two bullets to the chest, get drugged unconscious by stupid humans who think they're looking at double exposures, and die on the operating table, forcing you to regenerate in a morgue almost too late to survive. With, I might add, the fancy camera still in your chest."

Mickey stared at him in horror. "So that's happened to you before?" he gasped out.

"Eh," the Doctor said. "Could be."

"Oh my god," Rose exclaimed, and immediately put her hand on his chest, as if to check he didn't still have a camera in it. He gave her that sickly, indulgent smile that had looked paternal on his previous face, but looked like a puppy on his present face. "So what happened? You didn't yell at the surgeons too much, did you?"

"I scared the hell out of her. But that's ok, because she thought I was pretty."

"You and your girlfriends," Rose said cheerfully.

It was obviously yet another Doctor/Rose only inside joke, because they both laughed themselves stupid about it.

Mickey stepped out through the doors, saw a statue of Rose, and went to look for something interesting. They seemed to be in some sort of museum, and the TARDIS was parked behind a large, vindictively blue box, roughly the same size, but much taller.

Wait.

Statue.

Mickey's eyes widened. "Statue of Rose," he said, and pointed at it.

Rose and the Doctor looked at it, walked around it, studied it every which way. "It's pretty good," she said.

The Doctor pouted. "Fortuna is better."

"Of course she is," Rose agreed, patting his arm fondly. "What's that plaque say?" she asked, because she was still looking up at the flowers in the statue's hair.

"The Earth goddess - well, Byristran equivalent of Earth goddess. Humm. So that makes this daft sod the Sky god, I s'pose."

Mickey was ignoring them, because he saw a crowd of chattering aliens - very, very alien aliens - coming through the large doors at the end of the hall. Rose and the Doctor were still looking at the statues and hadn't noticed the aliens at all. Mickey wondered if he should point them out or just run for his life now to get it over with.

"We're in trouble now," Rose said cheerfully. "Is this where..."

They looked at each other, with enormous, matching grins and sparkling matching eyes. "Sharkey!" they both exclaimed, and went off into peals of laughter.

Mickey was getting tired of the all-exclusive humor. "What do we do, Doctor?" he asked, frustrated enough to choke them both.

"Just... I think we'd better get Rose a disguise. Won't take a minute, but don't wander off."

"Are they... friendly?" Mickey asked.

"Yup," the Doctor said, popping on the end of the word, just in case he wasn't annoying enough already. "Just don't let them think you might be a god who won't do tricks for them and you should be safe enough. Or maybe they learned their lesson about that sort of thing." He shrugged. "Don't wander off," he repeated firmly, and led Rose back into the TARDIS.

Mickey poked around a bit, took in the huge tapestry at the back of the hall that depicted a blonde girl (who might have been Rose) weeping, and the world looking strange - he thought it might be freezing, but it could be just losing color - every where her tears fell. He looked at the gray, fishy aliens and they looked back at him, but they didn't seem scared or angry, so he figured they must see human beings from time to time anyway.

He stared at a stick in a glass case, one reputed to have been in the fire that was charmed by the wrath of the Sky god. It was considered a holy relic. He prodded the blue box, which bore a plaque saying it was an icon of the divine chariot that had carried the god and goddess back to heavenly bliss. Mickey snorted.

He walked around a little longer, occasionally nearly bumping into fishy aliens who were doing the same thing, although they had expressions that might have been reverence. Their squeaky, sing-song voices were strange, but the TARDIS still dutifully translated every word.

So much for just a minute, Mickey thought. He decided that they were probably getting that console shag in now and made up his mind to go interrupt them, maybe snap off a couple of photos on his mobile to send to Rose's mum. He turned and came face to face with a second statue, apparently the mate of the one of Rose. All thoughts deserted him, even blackmail.

It was him, the old him, the one who called Mickey 'Rickey the Idiot' and argued with him about his own name. Instead of a daft grin, though, he had a stern, commanding, dangerous face. Two pale blue faceted jewels had been set in for eyes. They didn't look wrong. The alien clothes looked perfect somehow, as did the haughty, angry stance with the arms folded across his chest. Instead of the leather jacket, however, he had wings, ginormous freaking wings, like a bloody great condor.

He glanced back at the Rose statue and realized her shoes had wings on them as well. Her hands were odd, too, and he guessed that was supposed to indicate some sort of power coming off of them. He hadn't noticed in the lighting earlier, but she too had jewels for eyes. Several people were stopping by either statue and bowing to them. One of the creatures, who seemed to be female, even had tears in her eyes.

Mickey waited and read the signs to pass the time. The statues had been supposedly carved by an elder who had witnessed "The Failing" and the fall of the "Dark Priest" whose name wasn't mentioned. The statues were a gift to the Byristran people and from the Byristran people to the deities they depicted, in hopes that the days of "The Failing" would pass.

As soon as the crowds had shifted away from the statues, Mickey took a step closer to the slightly oversized mock-up of the utter git with the enormous ears who had stolen his girl and her heart with his flying phone box. "You never looked much like a god to me," he muttered.

Rose and the Doctor had just reappeared and Mickey got a split second to take in her costume before he heard an angry outcry from behind him, a load of people screeching "Infidel" and "Agent of the Pit". He realized almost immediately that they were talking about him, so he pivoted on his heel and ran for his life.

* * *

"So what was she wearing?" asked Captain John.

"Hum?" said Mickey. "Oh, yards and yards of this scarf that made her look three sizes larger, a floppy hat, and a ginger wig. And sun-glasses. She looked like Shirley Temple meets Elton John, actually."

John laughed uproariously. "And your friends are these people's god and goddess? Who do they work for?"

"Them? Oh, they're like free agents. He's a complete whack job, and she's getting there, too."

"Sounds like. Lost my lover to a time traveling nutter myself, so I can sympathize. Turned him into a fine, up-standing, law-abiding citizen." John shook his head and tugged half-heartedly at his chains. "It's really very tragic," he added when Mickey didn't say anything.

Mickey didn't know what to say to that, either, so he shrugged.

"Ah, well," John said, "what'd you do after you ran?"


	2. Chapter 2

**As I am a professional writer and have work to do to get paid, I have decided to deal with these thudding plot bunnies in the traditional manner - I will inflict them on others. Please see my Profile for the Challenges of the Month. July Challenges are now available, and what a twist for one of them. If you'd rather do June's, instead, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks to all those who have participated thus far - we had an exceptional turn out for June II for example. The new challenges will run through the end of July. Please let me know when you respond to a Challenge so I can read and review.**

This story is in response to blvdgrl's request for July Challenge II. I was asked to write a sequel or companion to her story, "Deity", include Ten, Rose, and Mickey, and set the story between "Girl in the Fireplace" and "Age of Steel". I have managed this. I was also asked to name the planet, give some cultural background, and disguise Rose for her own safety at some point.

"Deity" is a beautiful story, with a little humor and a lot of powerful prose. Make sure to check it out if you haven't already - it's on my favorites.

I, on the other hand, am insane. My response is from Mickey's point of view and, therefore, is all humor. It takes place ages into the future of the planet. I still cannot explain the special guest star - no idea HOW he got in this story, but he insisted and so here he is. There will be chapters on this one, because it got a bit long. They'll go up over the next two days. The rating should be considered to be a T+. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

Mickey managed to get away from the angry mob by joining a crowd of humans at a local cafe. He had learned back home on the Estate that every kid in the crowd looks the same as every other kid to people in authority. He sat quietly and waited until the mob had wandered off.

However, he discovered one tiny problem with this situation almost immediately. He was lost and there was no chance of finding the ship, the museum, or even the street it was on, since he hadn't taken a good look around him while he was fleeing in terror.

He pulled out his mobile to call Rose - or would have done, except he seemed to have left it back in the ship. Great, so he was on his own with a bunch of fish people who wanted to have a human fry. He sighed and sat back in his chair, knowing that the Doctor and Rose should be along to collect him shortly.

He waited and waited and waited. He waited some more. He stood up and paced. He declined seven offers of coffee, tea, and water from the cafe's waitress. He also declined three offers of sex with total strangers, just because he wasn't in the mood to deal with the likely outcome, in other words, the Doctor and Rose turning up exactly as it was getting interesting. They just had a way of doing that sort of thing.

When he'd sat there for what felt like another five and a half hours (but probably wasn't), he finally got disgusted and left. He wandered through the streets and alley ways, looking for anything that resembled the building he'd dashed madly out of earlier today. All he could remember was that it was blue.

Unfortunately, blue seemed to be the most prominent paint color around here, so that wasn't helping. It was easy to guess that the buildings were all meant to resemble the TARDIS.

When he finally got tired of walking, he looked for a place to sit and found a building with all sorts of people (both the local aliens and other, different aliens) going in and out of it. If he had to guess, he thought it was probably a church.

He went inside and discovered that he was right. It was a church, an old church, apparently built on the site of "The Failing" in an attempt to appease their angry git of a god. Mickey might have told them that he couldn't be appeased by anything except Rose, but he discovered that they knew this.

There was another enormous statue of a girl goddess. She didn't look much like Rose, really, Mickey thought. Someone had added gills to her cheeks, though they were admittedly better looking than the locals' gills, at least in his opinion. She carried a huge set of weighing scales, like a justice statue or something. Her eyes were mostly human. Her feet still had wings for some reason - probably to help her fly away with her girlfriend-stealing, nonsense-babbling, face-changing, banana-eating, over-caffeinated, princess-snogging, always-forgiven, thick-headed, smart-arsed alien lover.

Mickey hated everything.

Like every other alien building on Byristra, it was a bit damp, but obviously climate controlled to protect the furniture and fancy statues. He sat and sulked in silence for a few minutes before getting up and stalking out of the building. Depressed, angry, tired, and convinced they would leave without him, Mickey strode over to the nearest house and knocked on the door. He decided to ask for directions to the museum and hope they sent him to the right one.

As soon as the door was opened, he started to ask his question, but a large gray hand pulled him inside. The very next thing he knew, the alien was shaking his hand, talking loudly and boisterously in that high-pitched, squeaky voice they all seemed to have, and thumping him on the back all at once.

"Welcome, welcome!" shouted several more voices. Before he knew what had happened, he was sitting at a table with a heaping plate of something that steamed and looked like stewed spinach in front of him. He stared at it blankly.

The aliens all gasped, so he tried and, on the third go, stammered out a thank you. They all looked enormously relieved. "Our ways may seem a bit odd to you," said the alien who had dragged him inside. "We have vegetarian foods at this time of the year."

"So, it's like a festival?" he asked.

"It is the Season of the Failing," said an alien who looked older than all the others. He introduced himself, but Mickey didn't try to pronounce the squeaks and clicks. Then, he introduced the others and Mickey felt like he always did at Jackie's place, surrounded by people all talking at once, so no one could ever get a word in edgewise.

Someone asked his name, so he said, "I'm Mickey," and continued, "so I was wondering about this festival." He still hadn't figured out how to eat the green stuff, so he hadn't tried it yet.

The old bloke, Squeak-click, Mickey decided, stuffed a bit of the green stuff into his mouth without even a fork. Then he gestured at Mickey so, holding his breath and hoping, Mickey pinched off a bit - really too hot to hold, but when in Rome, or Byristra in this case - and stuck it carefully into his mouth. It was spicy hot, hotter than the curries he and Rose used to have on occasion, hotter than Allen and Trent's secret super-spice sauce, hotter than anything Mickey had ever heard of. It also tasted fishy and weird. Thankfully, Mickey was used to eating his own cooking, so it didn't bother him much. "It's good," he said.

One of the aliens burst into tears. Mickey was startled, until she knelt next to him, hugged him awkwardly and sobbed at him.

The whole table cheered as Mickey said, "Thank you."

He finished the meal, trying the whole time to ask his question. Every time he said a word, they brought him something, a cushion, a footstool, a glass of water, a glass of juice, another plate of green stuff, a plate of something that looked and tasted like teething biscuits, something that looked like a local newspaper, and a fan. He was enormously comfortable, and that was making him terribly nervous. He wondered if they were into human sacrifice.

The hugging alien cleared the table with the help of several very small aliens, and they left Mickey with Squeak-click at the table. However, as soon as every plate was gone, everyone filed back to their seats.

The littlest alien held back its head, hands in the air, and squealed out a quick, "Thanksforthefoodgodandgoddessandpleaseforgiveussoon."

The next three little aliens did the same. Then, the older aliens started. They said longer speeches and were more eloquent. Hugging-crying had tears as she did her bit. The large one who had dragged Mickey in said his piece and then, apparently, it was Mickey's turn. He sighed and imitated the same gestures as the others. "Thanks Doctor, thanks Rose. Don't suppose you could turn up soon, because I'm a bit lost here. Oh, and just so you know, these people are good people and really nice and helpful. So let them off the hook already."

The aliens all stared at him and Hugging-crying sobbed some more and hugged some more, Mickey first, and then all the little aliens. Then, it was Squeak-click's turn. He stood and did the hand gesture thing and all the aliens went over to place their hands in his. "Come," he said, and Mickey, not knowing what else to do, did the same. Then, he said his prayer, which seemed to have a lot to do with forgiveness and food and goats (had to be a story there) and pits and fire and could the god and goddess please come together often to guarantee a bountiful season for them for the coming year. Mickey nearly choked over that last but managed to bite his tongue. Absolutely did not want to think about that at all, ever.

It took him another hour to get away from the aliens and, by now, it was getting hot outside. He took off his jacket and wandered aimlessly down the nearest side street, because the directions he had gotten didn't seem to make a lot of sense, as they seemed to include a lot about Rose's anatomy and nothing much about street names.

He came at last, instead of to the museum, to a beautiful garden with lots of trees and benches and, merciful, cool, fragrantly sweet shade. He flung himself onto the nearest bench and watched the water playing in the fountain. He thought about having a drink, until he realized the water came from one of the Rose statue's eyes.

He got up to see if he could find one a bit safer, maybe where the water came from the sonic screwdriver - he could live with that. He found a statue where the Doctor god person had the Rose goddess wrapped up in his wings. Mickey thought she would actually like that one, so he glowered at it. He found a fountain he could stand, which was just Rose holding the world and the water tumbling off of it, so he had a drink from it. He hoped he found a way out of here, preferably one that led straight to the museum. Instead, he came up on something that he had been trying not to see, trying very, very hard not to see.

Someone had done an enormous mosaic on the back wall of the garden. It was easily twenty feet tall and the people depicted in it were about three times larger than life. The tile work was all bright colors and cheerfulness. The TARDIS translated the mosaic label as "The god and goddess bring the bounty of life."

And, of course, they were the Rose goddess and the Doctor god. And of course, because Mickey wasn't having a bad enough day before this, there was no other possible explanation for this particular description. And he didn't even have a camera, because this was better (worse) than live footage.

If he found them again, he was going to drag them back here, photograph this thing, and blackmail them for eternity. There was no way even the Doctor could manage to get out of this one with clever repartee.

Mickey was sure even a Time Lord couldn't come up with a different reason for kneeling, mother naked, with Rose's ankles behind his ears.

So he spat on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**As I am a professional writer and have work to do to get paid, I have decided to deal with these thudding plot bunnies in the traditional manner - I will inflict them on others. Please see my Profile for the Challenges of the Month. July Challenges are now available, and what a twist for one of them. If you'd rather do June's, instead, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks to all those who have participated thus far - we had an exceptional turn out for June II for example. The new challenges will run through the end of July. Please let me know when you respond to a Challenge so I can read and review.**

This story is in response to blvdgrl's request for July Challenge II. I was asked to write a sequel or companion to her story, "Deity", include Ten, Rose, and Mickey, and set the story between "Girl in the Fireplace" and "Age of Steel". I have managed this. I was also asked to name the planet, give some cultural background, and disguise Rose for her own safety at some point.

"Deity" is a beautiful story, with a little humor and a lot of powerful prose. Make sure to check it out if you haven't already - it's on my favorites.

I, on the other hand, am insane. My response is from Mickey's point of view and, therefore, is all humor. It takes place ages into the future of the planet. I still cannot explain the special guest star - no idea HOW he got in this story, but he insisted and so here he is. Three chapters, and that's the end, folks. The rating should be considered to be a T+. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

"And thus, you got caught, and found yourself chained to a wall," said John, chuckling. "Not too bright, there, Rickey."

"It's Mickey," he said, firmly. What in the hell was it with people randomly thinking they ought to call him Rickey? Did he look like a Rickey? Was he Rickey in another life, was that it? "Besides, you can talk. Taking a leak on a statue's shoes, honestly."

"Wasn't his shoes," said John, eyes twinkling suggestively. "Got a good bit of piping and a clever aim."

Mickey laughed nervously and wondered... no, no, really, he didn't. But...

No.

"How're we gonna get out of here?"

"That's the thing," said John. "Most places on this planet have pretty much given up this old religion. This city is about the only place left where they still worship your ex and her new shag. Do they really do it like that?"

"Like what?" said Mickey, weakly.

"You didn't see the other side of that garden, then. Most of the galaxy considers it to be some of the most beautiful and erotic art work anywhere. I was just wondering if they really did and what I'd have to do to get an invite."

"Think it's pretty much a private party," Mickey replied.

"Shame. Ah well, then, I can kill him for you, if you like."

Mickey didn't want him dead, just gone. Preferably leaving a broken-hearted, clingy Rose behind because... well, she was supposed to be... wasn't she?

Mickey sighed. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be his, after all. "Don't bother, it doesn't work on the bastard and he'll just get angry. And he's dangerous even when he isn't angry."

"Oh, me too," agreed John, cheerfully. "I'm a psychopath. My therapist told me. Mind you, I had him dangling out a twenty-seventh story window at the time." John sighed. "Therapists have no sense of gratitude. I used my handcuffs to chain him to the drain pipe and he didn't even send a card."

"Was he dead?" Mickey asked in horrified wonder.

"No, and that should have been reason enough right there. Why don't we just hand your friends over to these people, take their spaceship - it sounds interesting - and get the hell out of here? They get a life time of luxurious worship and shagging and you and I get to escape alive. What do you say?"

Mickey hadn't mentioned that the Doctor looked completely different now than he did in the statues, but he wasn't about to explain that. "We couldn't - his ship's got funny controls, only he can fly it."

"Bio-controls," John spat. "Oh, I do hate a clever bastard. Well, what's your idea, then?"

"Why don't we..." Mickey thought about it. "I haven't got a clue."

"The guards are listening to us," John said, suddenly and very, very quietly.

"What?" said Mickey.

"That's it!" John exclaimed.

"What's it?"

John's voice went loud and ringing. "Tell me the story, oh divine one," he proclaimed. "I long for your words of wisdom. Tell me of your ancient love for the Earth goddess and how she was stolen from you by your brother, the god of the Sky. Tell me how you lost her, oh god of the Underworld, and why you will not smite these who have imprisoned you."

Mickey stared at Captain John. He was barking mad, and that was all there was to it. But then he heard the rustling and squeaky whispering outside the cell door. His face astonished him by coming over with a wide, wicked grin. He had never thought of it this way, before, but...

* * *

As Mickey walked through the city, he heard the well-embellished tale told at least a half dozen times. They'd been released and Captain John had pulled some fancy tech tricks that allowed them both to disappear before they even got to the palace they were supposed to be visiting. Mickey thought that was a good idea, because he didn't really want to be burnt at the stake, just in case. He didn't know where the Captain had got off to now, which was a shame, but the man had said he'd see him later, so that was good.

The city was in celebration. Mickey didn't know how that had happened so quickly, but the sun still hadn't gone down and the streets were filled with fishy aliens all whooping and squeaking and proclaiming that the Time of Failing had at last come to an end.

"Wonder how this happened?" said a tall, lanky man off to the left.

Mickey grinned.

"Dunno," said his ginger-haired, bespectacled little companion, "but I'm glad it did. I was so sad for them."

The tall man nodded. Mickey walked up to them and slapped them both on the shoulder. "Got something to show you two," he said.

"There you are!" Rose exclaimed. "Oh, I was so worried about you." She threw her arms around him and hugged him and the Doctor thumped him on the back.

"We've been looking for you," the Doctor said. "Where were you?"

"Long story," Mickey replied, and led them down the street. He had gotten a pretty good idea of how to get around now, so he knew exactly where he was going. "Rose, I need your mobile, too."

She handed it over without a thought. He smirked and turned down the street that ended in the garden.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she exclaimed. "Doctor, look at all the statues."

"Hopefully they'll quit worshipping them now that they've decided 'The Failing' has passed. Honestly, you'd think after two thousand years... never mind. Where are we going, Mickey?"

"There's a part of the garden you both have got to see," he said, and selected the camera on Rose's mobile.

The Doctor and Rose linked hands and walked on, stopping to admire the statues, stopping to flick each other with water from the fountains. Mickey went back to the wall and snapped off a couple of photos, then leaned against it to wait.

It was worth it. Rose saw it first, he knew, because she gasped and made a squeaking, choking noise, not unlike the aliens saying their names. Mickey snapped a photo of her face - it was brilliant, a vivid, flaming crimson.

The Doctor had been paying attention to either the trees or Rose, because he didn't see what she had her eyes locked on at first. Mickey waited.

"Oh no," the Doctor exclaimed. "Nononononono!" Mickey snapped the photo - that look was probably worth millions in the right hands.

"You might want to see what's through the arch," Mickey suggested, and gestured down along the wall.

Rose took one more look at the wall, then yelped and fled. The Doctor stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"You all right, boss?" Mickey asked, and clicked another photo.

"I... not... this isn't... but..."

"Go on," he suggested. "You know you want to."

The Doctor glowered at him and stood, firmly, on that spot, absolutely not looking at the mosaic wall. Mickey started counting in his head. He got to six before the Doctor said, "Just in the interests of sociology, you understand. And protecting Rose's honor."

Mickey snapped another quick photo, then pocketed the mobile and strolled off, whistling, to find Rose.

* * *

"What did you do with my mobile, Mickey?" Rose asked, once they were back on the TARDIS and back in space. Mickey had noticed that their flight seemed a bit shakier than usual for some reason. The Doctor seemed to be in an open-mouthed, thoroughly dazed trance while he stood at the console, one hand on a lever that he didn't seem to be doing anything with.

"Just got some pictures," Mickey said, with a broad grin. "I'm gonna send 'em to my phone in a bit," he added.

"Oh, no you don't!" Rose shrieked. She started chasing him around the console room and Mickey grinned and held the mobile up over his head. "Doctor, help me!" she pleaded.

The Doctor was still out of it.

Mickey darted around him, dodged Rose, and started randomly pressing buttons on the mobile. "Now, let's see. Speed dial, check. Speed dial listings..."

Rose chucked a spanner at him but missed and hit the wall instead. "Doctor, he's got PICTURES."

"Pictures are nice," the Doctor replied, apparently completely absent at the moment.

Rose screamed and snatched at the back of Mickey's jacket. He shook her off and ducked behind the jump seat. "Mickey, don't you dare!!"

"And now, we just need to find..." Mickey muttered. Then, he grinned triumphantly, ducked the jumpseat again, and smacked into the console, opposite the Doctor.

The Doctor still hadn't noticed him.

"Doctor, please!!" Rose shouted.

The Doctor stared into space.

"Calling Jackie Tyler," Mickey announced, grinning fit to burst.

The Doctor appeared at his side as if he'd been teleported there. The sonic screwdriver was in his hand as if it had suddenly sprouted, and the mobile was smoking and shooting sparks and smelling like ruined plans and fried electronics.

Mickey pouted. "You broke it," he whined.

"Sorry," the Doctor replied, only he obviously wasn't. "Self-preservation instinct. I got us out of the mess on Byristra, but there is absolutely no force in the Universe that would save me if Jackie Tyler saw those photos. Frankly, I'm not ready to face that sort of horror, and really, I've gotten a bit fond of this body."

"I like it," said Rose, flippantly, with a little shrug. She didn't particularly seem to mean anything by it, Mickey could tell, but the results were priceless.

Normally, this would be another of their moments. They'd smile sweetly at each other, and Mickey would feel like being sick. But this time... oh, brilliant! The Doctor's hands started to tremble as he looked at Rose, his brown eyes so absolutely huge, he looked like a scared little kid. "D-do you?" the Doctor asked.

Rose nodded slowly, chewing at her lip.

The Doctor turned pale and swallowed hard. "Thanks," he muttered. Then, he turned and fled down the corridor at a dead run. Rose stared after him in complete, bewildered confusion.

Mickey decided that he didn't hate everything after all.


End file.
